Staring down the barrel of a 45
by HitTheKillSwitch
Summary: A dream. The same dream, over and over. She barely remembers it, but she knows it'll end the same each time- with her waking up in tears. But what happens when the things from that dream slowly start appearing in real life?
1. Anesthesia

_Anesthesia _

"Come ON!" He insisted. "It's now or never!"

I glanced nervously down the hallway. It seemed completely deserted, with the walls made mostly of glass allowing bright white sunshine to splash against the clean white tiles. A suspenseful silence filled every corner, and there wasn't even the sound of distant footsteps. He was right. We might never get this chance again. I could almost taste freedom, sweet and pure. It filled me with a longing so strong it gave me the courage to move my feet.

After a few tenative steps forward, the two of us launched into a barefooted sprint across the hall. Maybe it was because I was so scared, but it felt like the world moved in slow motion, just for us. I reached my hand out, tracing my fingers across the glass as we ran. Outside looked so beautiful- a white-ish yellow painted sky, green grass covering the hills beyond the meadow, and a willow tree right in the middle of it all. A grin split my face. When was the last time I had seen the sunrise?

"Hurry!" He whispered, his small, sweaty hand grabbing mine, tugging me along. We picked up the pace, trying to move as fast and as quiet as two eight year olds could. Throwing open the door, we found ourselves in the lobby. He turned to me, wearing a grin that matched mine.

"Almost there." I could hear him say as he tightened the grip on my hand. He was nervous, too; It showed on both on his face and his shaking hand. Deciding that I should help too, I tugged him towards the door, though it was doubtful he'd lose resolve. After all, we'd been planning this for weeks. Moving slowly, I surveyed the room. The overhead lights were still off, making the room shadowy and dark. There were only two windows- both next to the door- but the shades were closed, allowing none of the morning sunshine to filter in. The only light came from the hall at the wall opposite of us, by the corner. There didn't seem to be anyone here, either, which was why we chose morning to run. Usually, people would run away at night, hidden in the shadows. Here, the place was bustling with work at night. Most of the people working here decided to burn the midnight oil most nights and sleep in the early morning. Because of that, no one was around in the early morning, save for the occasional security gaurd. I looked over my shoulder at the hall we just came out of, hoping our plan worked perfectly.

The door. I stopped in front of it, my body buzzing with excitement. The red EXIT sign glowed above the door, and I sighed happily up at it.

"Ready?" I asked my friend quietly. He nodded eagerly. Grabbing our left wrists, we ripped off the wristbands that had kept us prisoners for so long. I watched it flutter to the ground with a smile. My wrist felt a thousand times lighter, even though the medical identification tag was made of paper. My friend threw his on the ground and stomped on it a few times for good measure. I laughed and did the same.

Reaching out, he placed his hands on the door.

"There's no going back now." He said.

"Thank gosh." I added. He looked back at me, rebelliousness in his eyes.

"Then let's do this." I held my breath as he pushed open the door. I wasn't sure what I was expecting- maybe an extremely loud alarm and flashing lights? A swarm of security gaurds surrounding us almost immediately? But all that was forgotten with one exhaled breath as I looked at the parking lot and the beauty behind it. I didn't have to look at my friend to know he was as much in awe as I was. When was the last time we've been outside, with no limitations? No cage, or glass to stay behind? I couldn't even remember- I doubt my friend did either.

So we ran.

My thin white nightgown gave me no protection to the cool morning air, but I reveled in the cold. The freshness of the oxygen filling my lungs, the natural light, the feel of blacktop changing to grass under my bare feet... it was exhilarating. It felt like I had found an old friend after years of missing him. I loved it.

Freedom.

Leaving the parking lot behind, I kept my eyes glued to the treeline across the meadow. Beyond those trees was our tickets to safety- the highway. Once we made it there, we could find someone to give us a ride, or just walk until we found a gas station. The adults would know what to do. I pushed myself to go faster, not even caring enough to look back at the large gray building behind us.

Freedom.

I ran up the hill, my eyes on the rising sun. Once I was at the top, I stood on my tiptoes, reaching towards the sky with my fingers stretched as far as they could go. The rays from the sun warmed my cold face, making me sigh in content.

Freedom.

"WE DID IT!" My friend yelled, running up the hill to join me. Cheering, he tackled me. The momentum pushed us over, making us roll to the bottom of the hill where we laid in a laughing heap for a while, just a tangle of skinny limbs and happy hearts.

If only it could've lasted.

"STOP RIGHT THERE, KIDS!" A loud, strict voice boomed from behind us. I looked at my friend, and he looked at me, fear written on both our faces. How did they find out? He grabbed my hand, whispering, 'Run'. I complied, an entirely different kind of adrenaline pulsing in my viens.

But our small, eight year old strides were easily overtaken by the security gaurds' sprint. I felt myself being lifted up by strong arms, before being pulled back to the building. Over the gaurds' shoulder I could see the meadow, the treeline, my freedom. I lost all of it.

I felt my heart crack.

_NOOO!_

I started screaming, holding on to a feeble hope that maybe, just maybe, if I could scream loud enough someone from the highway would hear, and swoop in to save us. I didn't want to go back. I couldn't go back.

"HELP US!" I shrieked. "HEEELP!"

The gaurd grumbled about me being too noisy and something about the door and a silent alarm. I barely heard him. Tears streamed down my face, my cries getting louder and louder with every step closer he took to that hellhole.

"I hate you," I sobbed. "I HATE YOU!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." The gaurd snapped at me. "Just zip it before you wake the entire-"

His sentance was cut short as he fell, unbalanced from the force of my friend knocking into him at full tilt. The gaurd landed halfway on top of me, making me wince as my head hit the pavement. My head spun as I looked up through blurry eyes at my friend, who seemed to be panicked- just not as much as me. The gaurd who had carried him was a few feet away, holding his shoulder in pain caused by fresh bite marks.

"Run. Get out of here and don't look back." My friend said, his voice trembling.

"What...?" I managed.

"Live life enough for the both of us." He wrapped me in a quick hug before running off, crashing headfirst into the swarm of doctors that had come running out, equipped with needles and shots and anesthesia. Another pair of arms scooped me up, but this time, they weren't headed towards the building- they were headed towards the parking lot. All I could see was my best friend, trashing around as a doctor tried to sedate him while the others held him down. A fresh wave of tears came on when the doctor finally got a lucky shot. My friend was crying, too- he was scared. So was I.

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!" I screamed one last time, reaching out like I could grab him and pull him with me wherever this person was taking me. Black spots clouded my vision, slowly taking over as I lost my energy. When had things turned so dark?

I wondered if we passed out at the same time.

My eyes flew open. Breathing heavily, I slowly sat up, trying to control my rapid heartbeat. What was that?

I searched my memory, snatching at wisps of what I had just seen, but most of it was already gone. I swallowed hard when I realized there were dried tears on my face. Slowly lowering my face, I burried it in my hands, my hair creating a curtain around me.

"It was just a dream..." I said outloud, trying to make myself feel better. "Thank god it was just a dream..."  
><strong>XXX<br>Well, that escelated quickly. But aren't you curious as to who her little friend is? How mysterious. And that little act of rebellion got them in a lot of trouble, didn't it? Well, at least it was all a dream, right?  
>Right.<br>Anyways, I don't really know too much about how this is going to play out. I mean, I didn't even say who the protagonist is yet, but it seems kind of interesting. I legitimately just write this stuff at 2 AM on my notes app and post it... I should probably update my other two stories, too... hm. Well, the title of this was based off the song 45 by Shinedown. Go look it up!  
>Love,<br>HitTheKillSwitch**


	2. Dysthymia

_Dysthymia_

What finally woke me up was the smell of bacon. Against my will, my eyes pried themselves open, the temptation of fried breakfast foods overcoming the small voice in my head whining for more sleep. Sighing, I pushed myself up so I was sitting instead of lying down. It felt like a cannon ball had been dropped on my head, my inevitable migrane was so bad. After I had finally calmed down enough last night to think straight, it had been about three in the morning and I had to wake up for school at six. Usually, I required eight hours of sleep to be able to wake up so early and be wide-awake and ready for the day.

Unfortunately, that meant the mornings after I had my nightmare were hell, since I'd usually get half that. Getting up was painful, even if I was able to go to school afterwards, which was always fun. Today was even worse than usual because of the Energizer Bunny having a party in my skull. Was it because I cried that my head hurt? I _did_ cry, right? Even though the details were fuzzy, I could vaguely recall silently sobbing myself back to sleep, a suspicion only made stronger by my unusually itchy, puffy eyes.

What was the nightmare about, anyways? I wondered as I yanked on a sweater vest over my button-up. I'd love to know, considering it was scary enough to start the waterworks. I've had that dream a million times before, believe me. You'd think I'd remember something- a name, a face... a general idea on what the dream was about might be nice, too. All I could recollect was fear. Did I get chased down by a serial killer? Attacked by a pack of rabid dogs? Was I locked in a dark room where the only light source was Avatar The Last Air bender Movie playing on a loop?

I honestly remembered nothing.

Sighing again, I opened my bedroom door and dragged myself to the kitchen. As I'd anticipated, there was a pan of bacon sizzling on the stove next to a pan of fluffy scrambled eggs. The only surprise was that Aunt Agnes was cooking, and not Sasha like usual.

"How you feeling, Maka?" She asked without turning to look at me, her foot tapping to a silent beat.

"Sad and tired." I sighed, dropping into one of the kitchen chairs, the dream from last night on my mind. "I haven't been sleeping too great."

Aunt Agnes stiffened, almost dropping the pan of bacon. "Whoa!" I gasped, jumping back up when some of the hot grease spilled onto her faded, already-stained apron. "Are you okay?"

I could see her back rise and fall as she took a breath, calming herself before she turned to me. To my relief, she wore a smile.

"A little grease can't hurt ol' Agnes." She assured me confidently, setting the bacon pan down on the stove. "It's just this ol' arthritis getting to me." She laughed wholeheartedly, so I did, too. Aunt Agnes really needed to be more careful. I didn't want something to happen to her when no one was home. She was in her... what, sixties now? She wouldn't heal as fast as she used to. Sasha, Donnie and I all get a little nervous when her little 'accidents' happen.

"Come on, you need some food in your belly." She said, setting a plate of eggs and bacon down where I had been sitting. Aunt Agnes pushed me down, nodding critically.

"Breakfast IS the most important meal of the day. Here, take this, too- it's for allergies. From the looks of it, you need it. Your eyes look... a tad puffed up." She plopped a small pink pill next to my food. Shrugging, I swallowed it and washed it down with the breakfast. I never really needed the medicine- I didn't have allergies, and even if I did I already knew why my eyes looked like crap. But, it made Aunt Agnes happy. Relieved, almost. Whenever I didn't feel well, for any reason, Aunt Agnes would march to the medicine cabinet and pull out one of the billions in there. She had some for everything. When I was younger, I remember her telling me (and I'd believed her!) that the colorful tablets were candy. She'd make me swallow her whole arsenal of pills if she found out about my nightmares for sure. Instead, I let her be pleased to know she'd saved me from the horrors of a runny nose.

"Where's Sasha?" I asked. Aunt Agnes pointed her spatula towards his bedroom.

"The poor boy is sleeping in. He stayed up late last night tutoring that troublemaker in math. I told him he could have a day off school since he was feeling a bit under the weather." She answered. By troublemaker, she meant Donnie. Although it might seem a bit harsh to call him that, I could hear the affection for both of them in her voice. Donnie, Sasha and I all met when we first came to Aunt Agnes' Place about seven years ago. It's been the longest time I've ever spent with a foster parent. Before then, I'd been to a few families, but here had always been my favorite. The day I first came and met my family was one of my favorite memories, just because of how dear the event was to me. The memory, unlike my nightmare, was extraordinarily vivid.

_"Maka, you'll be staying here for a while, alright?" Miss Marie told me kindly. Today was the day I moved into Aunt Agnes' place, a house on Plum Hollow. It was famous in the system. Over thirty kids have lived there, raised by the owner of the house and the namesake- Aunt Agnes Jones. I've heard lots of good things about her, but honestly, how much was true? Looking around the slightly small living room, and eventually at my new 'foster parent', I could feel the anxiety start to claw at my insides. Standing beside the old lady that was supposed to take care of me for who knows how long were two kids, staring at me with wide, curious eyes. She had kids of her own? Not able to hide the stress, I grabbed the skirt Miss Marie's black and yellow dress, hiding behind the social worker's legs. _

_This was going to be just like the last family had been, I knew it. No one cared about me. Families that took in a kid when they already had some of their own tended to neglect the foster kid. At least in my experience. They let me take ballet, but never showed up to any recitals. I went to school like the other kids, but I was always picked up late. My grades were the highest in my third grade class, but they were never as good as "Annie's" or "Kyle's" grades. I hated it. My little nine year old hands curled into fists around the fabric. I could feel my nose scrunching up in anger, but I covered it by moving a little closer to Miss Marie. _

_"Thank you for taking me in..." I mumbled, my voice muffled by her skirt. I heard someone snort and start laughing. Turning angrily, I saw it was one of the boys standing next to my new care-taker. He looked like a punk. The kid was my age, maybe, but with a lot more attitude. He was taller than me by a smidge, with white-blonde hair and blue eyes. Dirty jeans and a loose black T-shirt were pretty normal for a boy my age, but what worried me was the fact he had earrings. He was a boy. Nine year old boys don't wear earrings! _

_"What?" I asked defensively._

_ "You sounded so lame!" He sneered. His voice was layered with a slight, noticeable accent of some sort- Brooklyn, maybe? Boston? I recoiled at his insult._

_ "Yeah? Well, let me tell you- looking like a girl isn't helping your cool factor." I shot back, tugging my own earlobe to indicate the earring on his. With satisfaction, I noticed his face flush angrily, though he said nothing more. The old lady next to him chuckled. "You sure put him into his place, now didn't you?" She teased, ruffling the boy's hair, much to his chagrin._

_ "Hon, you don't gotta worry here. I'll take good care a you. This is Sasha," She placed one hand on the boy to her right, "And Donnie." She placed her other on the kid who had made fun of me. Donnie just frowned and looked away. Sasha, on the other hand, waved and smiled. He gave off a much different air than Donnie. Sasha was short, maybe even shorter than me, and tan. His curly hair was dark brown, the same color of his eyes, and it was pulled back into a stubby ponytail. I couldn't tell what his ethnicity was- if I tried, I'd be all across the board. He looked a lot nicer than his brother. The look in his eyes was bright, and reminded me a bit of Aunt Agnes'. _

_ "They're foster kids, too, so don't you worry. They're used to the system and I don't doubt they know how you feel right now. I'm sure you'll get along just fine." Aunt Agnes said. Ah, that was it. Didn't that mean I didn't have to compete? I didn't have to struggle for the same treatment of my siblings? And most of all... they'd understand. Looking at my new family- the warm old lady, the stubborn punk and the nice, quiet boy- I couldn't help but get a happy feeling. It was dizzying and as a small smile crossed my face, something inside me clicked. Even though a second before I wanted nothing more than to leave, now I wanted to stay. For a long time. _

And so I did.

"Hey, Maka," Donnie's head popped up from the couch, snapping me out of it, "Is Black Star coming to get you again today?"

"He does everyday. Otherwise, he'd never go to school. Why?" I asked. To be honest, Donnie hadn't changed much, both in personality and appearance. The only difference was his height- now, he looked somewhere in between five foot ten and six feet. _Much_ taller than me at a measly five foot three.

"He wanted to borrow this." Donnie waved an Xbox game in the air. With a jolt, I realized which one it was.

"But that's Sasha's game!" I protested.

"Which is why I said yes- if Black Star breaks it, then at least it's not my game." He grinned, tossing the game in the air and catching it lazily. I twitched. Stupid Donnie. Lucky for him, the doorbell rang before a book could leave my fingers. Actually, it kept ringing. And kept ringing. And kept ringing.

"Black Star!" I snapped, yanking open the door and narrowly avoiding get hit in the face by a blue-haired boy (or monkey. He could pass as either one).

"How many times have I told you not to do that?" I demanded. "You're going to break the doorbell!"

"Naw, it's used to it." Black Star grinned, ringing it one more time for good measure. Rather than being used to it, the poor button was probably on the verge of death. It had suffered Black Star's stupidity for years. Groaning as he strut inside, I shut the door behind him. He was annoying, yes, but he was also my best friend. One of my only friends, in fact. I've known him since I got to Aunt Agnes' place, since he used to be one of her kids. Now, he lived around the block, at his new foster family's house. Black Star lived with them for longer than I've been with Aunt Agnes, and he always spoke fondly of Sid and Nygus.

"Ah, Black Star, back again? I guess you must've missed ol' Agnes too much since I saw you yesterday." She chuckled. "You always were a bit of a Mama's boy."

"ME? No way! That's so lame-" I slapped a hand over his loud mouth. Donnie pressed his hands together and looked towards the ceiling, saying a silent _Thank you, sister!_

"Sasha's sleeping, so wake him up and you're a dead man." I warned. Black Star just snorted.

"You kidding? Sasha would love to see me! Who wouldn't?" He grinned, shoving my hand away.

"I wouldn't." Donnie said flatly, tossing him the videogame. "And Sasha wouldn't either if you break that."

"Like I would break this!" Black Star said with a salute. "I'm just too good!"

After snatching my backpack off the floor and flipping the Velcro switches on my clunky black boots, I was ready to go. Waving a quick goodbye to Aunt Agnes, I grabbed Black Star- who'd struck up an argument with Donnie- by the collar and dragged him out the door. If we didn't leave within five minutes, we would've been late. Not that Black Star would've cared; I doubt he would've went to school if I didn't drag him. It used to be that I trudged three miles to his house, woke him up, got him ready, then half-dragged him to school. After about a year I got so sick of it I told him if he was too weak to come pick me up instead, that was fine. I knew it'd be too hard for him to handle, it'd be SO much easier to just rely on a girl... His ego took too much damage. The poor narcissist had to do something to salvage his pride. Now, he picked me up and walked me to school everyday without fail. I didn't complain, but he sure did.

"So... remember anything this time?" Black Star asked finally. He'd been raving about himself for most of the walk to school, like usual, and I had zoned out, as usual, so this came as a surprise.

"What?"

"It's written all over your face. You had the nightmare last night. Don't think you can hide it from me! I'm too good for that!" He said in a way that was meant to be wise, but only managed to pull off annoying know-it-all. Black Star was the only person who I told about the dream. The first few times I'd had it, it really bothered me, and I didn't want to make Aunt Agnes or Sasha or hell, Donnie, worry. I knew they'd figure it out eventually- I was acting to strange- but Black Star found out first. Once I he wore me down enough, I gave up and told him all about it. Strangely enough, I'd felt better afterwards. I usually kept him in the know, so it wouldn't bother me as bad and no one else would have to find out. I could handle this on my own... Black Star not included.

"Same as always." I said tiredly. "Zilch."

"Don't freak over it." He dismissed. "If you can't remember it, it can't be too important."

I nodded absently, feeling a bit better. The only thing, though... if the nightmare was as insignificant as Black Star was saying, then why'd I keep having it?

"You're right." I said finally, resolving let it go.

"Of course!" He boasted as we climbed the steps to our school. "I'm a god, after all!"

**XXX **

**Well, now I know what I'm doing. Sort of. I even threw a flashback in there. This was supposed to be longer, though. I had everything planned out. Anyways, Perception & Paranormal Activity, thanks for the inspiration. Fingersofbone, thanks for the motivation. Also, I don't know if nine year old boys wear earrings. Maybe they do. **

**Sorry about the random OC's (that aren't really OCs', I guess). Sasha, Aunt Agnes and Donnie were unexpected. I didn't really plan on them. Donnie got his name from Perception, by the way. Black Star is the childhood friend because I thought it worked. Everyone makes it Liz or Tsubaki. No. I've already done that for Savin' me. Screw it, I'm making it Black Star, even if I don't know how to write him. Plus, I managed to only say ''god" like, two times. That's an accomplishment when writing about Black Star!**

** Thanks for the reviews! More to come... **

**Love, HitTheKillSwitch**


End file.
